Man Nights
by Czar Ashurri
Summary: The Milesius family is quite odd. Especially since they can't seem to stop trying to kill one another.  AU College, ShaunDesmond, EzioLeo, AltairMalik, mentions of Kadar's death
1. Pool Time

**This story is also featured on my deviantart account, TheRavenWhoSangFire. I will update it there before I update it here.**

**Warnings: Yaoi/Slash and a lots of it...and Desmond and Ezio being douches.**

**Have fun! And please take some time to review.**

Desmond was doing his best not to laugh. Across from him in the cramped booth at the hole-in-the-wall café, his older brother Ezio was grinning proudly, slinging his arm around his boyfriend Leonardo's shoulder. Leonardo was focusing in on his large cup of coffee, resolute in his attempts to ignore the two tan men and their devious plots.

"Are you sure it will work?" the younger sibling asked, mischief glittering his eyes in the weak fluorescent light. His own cup lay forgotten on the small table, the cold dregs swimming pitifully in the leftover liquid at the bottom of the cup. The place was a decent dive for college students, quiet and empty for study hours and private for planning pranks like this. The owner was a mutual friend of the three men, a lesbian tech-geek named Rebecca. While it wasn't the largest or nicest café near the college, it was cheap and had good coffee—and tea for Desmond's British lover Shaun.

"Why wouldn't it?" Ezio challenged, sipping his mostly milk coffee. At Desmond's dubious expression, the Italian language major added, "Malik agreed to help our cause."

The bartender smiled at that. Malik was their older brother's best friend/significant other. While Altair loved to annoy the older man, he would do anything he said. The plan was forming perfectly. Both brothers suddenly looked at one another and grinned dangerously.

Leonardo did his best not to notice.

* * *

><p>Altair was tired. The apartment he shared with his—idiot—younger brothers had never seemed so far from the foreign language building, but then again today had to be the day that Desmond had borrowed his motorcycle and Ezio had promised his artist to a date thus he had the brothers' car.<p>

It was times like this that he wondered if it had been a good idea to encourage his brothers to attend the same university as him. There was barely a year in between each of them though, and for years people thought they were triplets; it just seemed natural that they stayed together. They were so much alike. Even their majors resembled each other.

Ezio was focusing in on Italian, mainly, but was also taking classes in music and art. Altair guessed this was to impress his boyfriend, but he digressed. Desmond was double majoring in Romantic languages and journalism, a contrast to his European History lover-boy. Altair was majoring in Arabic and Criminal Justice, the same as Malik.

He smiled as he thought of Malik. Before they entered their relationship, when they were still just best friends, Altair couldn't look at the other man without feeling a pang of sadness. He was, after all, the driver when their car had lost control and crashed off a bridge. Malik's brother Kadar had become trapped as the vehicle sank in the lake while Malik and Altair managed to escape but not without some injury. Altair had it easy, a scratch on the lip—now a permanent scar—and a few cuts on his back. Malik though nearly lost his left arm—he did later—as the glass and shrapnel ripped apart the flesh, muscle, and nerves. A stump now stood in its place, a reminder to Altair to cut down his own pride.

For a while, Malik had blamed him, rightfully so in Altair's opinion, but with therapy and help from Desmond and Ezio, he finally accepted the scarred man back into his life and eventually his heart. Not that they acted like it…Malik and he always had an _interesting_ relationship.

"So you've finally showed up, dumbass," the one armed man snarled from his post, leaning on the door to the apartment heavily. The dark jacket he always wore contrasted nicely with his white button up which in turn brought out the bronze of his skin and the mousey brown of his hair. Tight dark wash jeans framed muscled legs—since he couldn't lift weights except with one arm, he was determined to run at least four mornings a week—and black, slightly heeled (though he would never admit it) boots covered his calves down to his feet.

Overall he looked delicious. Altair knew though not to say that out loud while in "public" so he quickly unlocked the door and usher in the tall man. Malik paused just inside the doorway to peck the scar at Altair's lip before plopping himself down on the couch. Altair allowed himself a small smile, closing the door and sauntering over to the seat next to Malik. The other man huffed and leaned in the lie on Altair's chest. They shifted soundlessly so that Altair was lying on the couch fully with Malik on top of him. The stump of Malik's left arm brushed Altair's hip, and he fought the urge to kiss the top of his friend's head.

"Your brothers want us to meet them later for something," the older man grumbled.

Altair grew instantly suspicious. "For what?" he questioned, afraid.

"Who knows with those two…but Leonardo is involved so it can't be too bad," Malik urged, trying not to tip the other man off. It seemed to work because Altair settled down and mumbled something about taking a nap before rushing to meet the idiots. Malik set an alarm on his phone before settling into his own nap.

"Why am I getting involved in this rubbish again?" Shaun huffed for the fifth time. Leonardo simply nodded his silent agreement beside him, never removing his eyes from the sketch pad in his lap. Their boyfriends had just explained the plan to them in full, and neither was happy with the prospect.

"Because, Shaun, you love me," Desmond supplied. The Brit grumbled something into his palm, trying and failing to resist the urge to massage his temples. His usual sweater vest was covered in liquid from the preparations, and his temper was barely under control. "And because Malik believed it would be hilarious."

"Malik is also the one who thought it would be funny to switch Lucy's shampoo out with Nair. The poor bint hasn't seen daylight in weeks," Shaun countered. The other three men paused and turned towards him, shock plain on their faces.

"That was Malik?"

"Wait that wasn't Ezio?"

"Hey! Why would I do that?"

Shaun knew a migraine was coming, and he was hoping he could curl up with Desmond and a cup of Earl Grey before it got too bad. He glanced at the younger man, praying for his pain to be noticed even subconsciously, but his lover was too engaged with the miniature argument surrounding whether or not Ezio had the balls to modify Lucy's shampoo. He sighed to himself, resigning to a night of irritation and pain. Leonardo, sensing Shaun's aggravation, quickly broke up the two brothers before they could come to blows, giving the Brit a look of camaraderie.

The two men had to stick together after all. The brothers and Malik were slightly insane, and while they loved their counterparts, Leo and Shaun felt overwhelmed after a while.

"Where is Malik? He and Altair should be here!" Ezio complained loudly. Leonardo ignored him, sitting again with his back against a wall and his sketch pad in his lap.

"We're here," the Arab man called out, practically dragging the oldest brother by the hood of his jacket. Altair was cursing and grumbling under his breath; his whispered monologue abruptly ended though when Malik unceremoniously dumped him on his ass. With a curse, ignoring the laughter of his brothers and the rolling eyes of the Brit and the artist, Altair scrambled to his feet and took in his surroundings.

"You brought me to the campus gym," he stated, trying not to groan.

"No shit, dumbass," Malik smirked, crossing his arms. "Any more obvious observations that you want to make hiding in that massive brain of yours."

Shaun was back to pinching the bridge of his nose and sat down quietly beside Leonardo.

The bloody night just wouldn't end.

* * *

><p>After much wrestling, the two brothers finally fitted Altair with a blindfold and drug him through the gym building. The two "normal" guys followed them slowly, trying unsuccessfully to blend in with the dark walls. Altair remained suspicious and disgruntled. His boyfriend was behind him, pushing him by the shoulders (ahem…shoulder) while the two idiots he lived with were tugging on his arms. He was almost positive that Desmond had stolen Rebecca's video camera and was filming the entire ordeal.<p>

"Stop," Ezio commanded him, skipping out of the way and grabbing the blindfold. Altair stood dumbfounded, staring at the Olympian sized pool like it was a portal to Hell itself. He looked to Desmond for explanation, but his youngest brother was fiddling with a flip camera. Malik still held his hand to his shoulder, so he turned to receive support.

Malik however was grinning madly. "When's the last time you took swimming lessons?" he asked in an innocent voice though his visage betrayed him.

Altair gasped as he realized the trap he had been led into. "Malik, whatever you're planning, please think about it," he practically begged, embarrassed. Damn that camera in Desmond's hands.

"I didn't plan anything. This was all Ezio's idea."

Altair's head swiftly looked to Ezio who was, as well, grinning madly. He wasn't expecting to be tackled from the front.

Time seemed to freeze as he turned towards his attacker. Malik, with his one arm wrapped around Altair's waist, was gleeful. In the background, Ezio and Desmond were laughing and high-fiving as Desmond tried not to drop the camera. Leonardo was desperately shrinking into the wall while Shaun was tugging him towards the door, watching the event with wide, fearful eyes. As time caught up with him, a violent yell flew from Altair's throat.

"Oh fu~" and then he was submerged in the deep water of the pool. Under water, Malik continued to grin as he pushed off of Altair's chest to get back to the surface, driving the younger deeper into his personal hell. Realizing, almost too late, it was learn to swim or die, Altair began to violently move his arms and legs, hoping to move in the direction of the surface.

He broke through for enough time to take a breath before he was under again. In his breath though, he released a rather girlish scream, and when he emerged again, he could hear his brothers and his so-called lover laughing at his reaction.

"I'm going…to kick…your asses…as…soon as…I…GET OUT OF….HERE!" His threat, hilariously, was chopped to pieces by his drowning, though the three got the message and ran.

Cursing, Shaun handed his phone to Leonardo so it wouldn't get damaged and jumped in to save the struggling man.

"Just so you know," the Brit said as he finally pulled the older man out, "Leonardo and I told them not to do this. We are NOT involved."

Altair nodded. He knew who was.

**Hoped you liked it!**

**R&R**


	2. Assassin?

**Yay! Night two!**

Shaun was quite content. Yes quite. He was lying on his couch with his favorite philosophy book—Sun Tzu's Art of War—though lounging was a much better description. As this was one of his few days in, he choose to wear a white t-shirt and his only pair of jeans, a ragged shade of denim that had seen better days. His cup of Earl Grey grew forgotten and cold on the side table as he became more and more engrossed in his book. The perfect afternoon in his opinion.

But then life always gets in the way.

Shaun held in a groan as his book suddenly disappeared from his fingers and his boyfriend leaned over the couch to look him in the eye. He loved Desmond, truly he did, but the damn man had no admiration for simple peace.

"Yes, Des?" Shaun prompted, hoping for once it wasn't another episode like the pool. Altair still held a murderous glint in his eyes and, from what Malik told the Brit, still wanted revenge from his near drowning.

"Want to stay at my place tonight, _babe_?" Desmond drawled, knowing the endearment would aggravate the other man.

Shaun did his best to show no emotion. "Why?" he breathed out, already guessing the response.

"Because you love me?"

That was it. How Desmond got him every time. Shaun hated to admit it, but he was whipped. Sure he would constantly complain, but if it involved Desmond, and thus involved his libido, he was a slave with a cruel master. It would be no fun though to let Desmond know that.

"I wonder about that sometimes," the Brit felt a small triumph when Desmond's smirk faltered. Shaun then sighed and reached up to cup Desmond's chin. "What's the real reason for inviting me over? Hmmm?" His tongue snuck out to lap at the corner of the journalism major's mouth. "_Dearest_?"

If Shaun was whipped, then Desmond was purely submissive. Immediately the younger man started blushing and refused to look the historian in the eye. "Altair thought it would be a good idea to invite everyone over."

"Everyone…meaning?" Shaun prompted, licking at the opposite corner.

"J-j-just yo-you, Leo-o-o, and Mal-EEK!" The man was practically squirming now, unsure if he hated or loved the sensation. The tongue retreated into a smirking mouth before its lips attached themselves to Desmond's. Using the hand on the younger's chin, Shaun pulled him down closer to him, causing the back of the couch to dig into Desmond's abdomen.

The Brit allowed the American to engage fully in the kiss before pushing him off of himself and muttering an excuse to get in some proper clothing. Just for some extra measure, he made sure to noticeably swing his hips to call attention to his ass. Just the knowledge that Desmond was staring made him smirk.

* * *

><p>When they arrived at the house, with Shaun dressed in his usual sweater and trousers, they were surprised to see Ezio and Leonardo arguing. Shaun, who had known the Italian artist ever since they were in the same high school exchange program, was the most shocked. Very few things set Leo off, but when he was angry, the painter was much like the lion he was named after. Violent Italian spewed from his mouth, words that seemed to have such an effect on Ezio that he shrank back against the wall in fear and shame.<p>

"Leonardo, _caro mio_, please, I didn't…" Ezio begged.

"Ezio, what did you do?" Desmond blurted out in awe. Ezio opened his jaw to answer but soon clicked it shut again with a glare from the slight Italian man.

"This _cazzo_, _il figlio di puttana _(son of a whore)…" Unfortunately for Desmond and Shaun though, Leonardo forgot that he was answering a question and continued to spout out obscenities about Ezio in his native tongue.

Shaun pulled Desmond away from the disagreeing couple and into the kitchen where Altair and Malik were steadily ignoring one another while sitting at the dining table.

"Are we the only ones who can agree with each other right now?" Shaun asked Desmond, leaning against the American heavily.

"I suppose," Desmond huffed, looking at his oldest brother's sour expression. "At least Leonardo will eventually forgive Ezio, these two are too stubborn to even see their own faults." Malik and Altair immediately stood to negate him, but when twin fist pounding the wood surface of the table, they caught each other's eyes and sat down again, facing opposite directions. "See what I mean?"

Taking Desmond aside so they wouldn't disturb the other couples, Shaun whispered his concern to Desmond. "Do you think it's a good idea for me to stay tonight? I don't think anyone is having a good time."

Desmond smiled and pointed to the sulking Altair at the table, "**He** invited you when Malik and he started fighting tonight, so I don't see a problem."

After an hour or two, the house settled again and the six men found themselves sitting around the dining table. An awkward silence had settled over the group; Ezio and Leonardo sat leaning towards each other, Ezio playing with Leo's hand as if physical connection could warrant forgiveness; Altair and Malik sat shoulder-to-shoulder with their usual scowls, the empty left sleeve of Malik's jacket lying across Altair's crossed arms; Desmond and Shaun perched on the edge of their seats from the tension, their hands tightly grasped under the table.

Finally Altair stood to address the table. "With the recent attack," he emphasized the word at the back of his throat, cutting his eyes towards Ezio, Desmond, and at last Malik, "on my person, I admit I have been tense. However many of us have let it sink into our relationships…" Another glance at Ezio and then to Leo's stony visage. "So I have invited everyone here tonight to propose a game."

"_Un gioco_?" Leonardo spoke up. "What kind of game, Altair?"

"It's called 'Assassin'. I will take a stack off cards with only one ace and pass them out. We will all have five minutes to hide. After five minutes, the one with the ace will hunt the others." Altair's serious face accompanied the description.

Ezio cleared his throat, "And the one with the ace, he will hide too?"

"Yes. No one will know the others' cards until after the five minute mark."

The group looked around the table. It was true that since the pool incident the six of them had been at odds. The question was now if Altair's suggestion of a game would really ease the tension.

"I'm in," Desmond all but shouted. Shaun groaned and nodded that he would join too. Leo followed his oldest friend's example. Ezio and Malik glanced at each other before nodding as well. Altair seemed pleased and went into the living room to prepare the cards. As he returned, he turned off the lights in the house.

"Remember," he said, a frightening grin stretching across his features, "you have only five minutes."

Everyone glanced at their cards and smirked, except for Leonardo. He looked terrified.

* * *

><p><em>Two more minutes,<em> Ezio thought as he rushed from cover to cover. He knew his little Italian man was hiding somewhere in the apartment, so he was determined to hide outdoors. It wasn't that he was angry at the artist, but the artist was barely speaking to him now that he had calmed down.

Ezio slid behind a bush and into a hard, movable object. The object grunted loudly and swung out to hit him in the back of the head.

"_Khara_!"

"_Cazzo_!"

Altair and Ezio turned towards each other sharply, assessing the other. Silently they settle behind the bush, eyeing the door and each other. _One more minute_, they thought together. Again they looked at one another intently which eventually led to a staring contest.

"Do you—" they began together, grabbing each other's card. Altair's seven of hearts winked in the streetlight; Ezio's king of clubs fluttered to the ground. The two men stared at each other in relieved shock. Inside the house, the timer Shaun set chimed the end of the hiding period, breaking the brothers' silence. For a few seconds more, they held each other's gaze before relaxing into the grass.

"You're Italian is improving," Altair noted, lying down next to Ezio. Ezio blushed and nodded, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. "Are you going to visit Leonardo's family in Italy soon?"

"Well—" Ezio looked towards the apartment, "if he ever forgives me, perhaps." The sheepish grin that settled on his face unnerved the eldest brother. If anything the eldest brothers were proud, proud fools at times but proud; to see Ezio shaken by his disagreement with the usually kind and gentle painter shook Altair as well.

"What did you do?" he asked, sincerely curious. "I've never seen Leonardo that upset."

"I…" the younger man hesitated. "I lost the ring he gave me."

"Ring?" Altair nearly shouted, surprised. "He finally proposed?"

"No, _idiota_! His mother's engagement ring! His father proposed to his mother when he found out she was pregnant," Ezio explained, exasperated.

"Oh. That is serious."

"No shit."

Altair shifted uncomfortably. "So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Ezio buried his head in his hands. "I just don't know."

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Shaun followed after his old exchange-buddy who was oddly silent as he searched through the apartment. Shaun had hid next to the man to get the whole tale of the now infamous quarrel. By the time the timer chimed, Leo was in tears in Shaun's arms.<p>

"Shh…Leonardo, remember we have to hide from the 'assassin'," Shaun had whispered, trying to calm the man down.

Leonardo had hiccupped to a stop and pulled his card out of his pocket. "Actually…" he waved the ace of spades in front of Shaun's nose. It had taken all of Shaun's self-control not to facepalm.

Now though, they were fervently searching for the other four men. After his tears had stopped flowing, Leo had stiffened dramatically, so much so that Shaun wouldn't have been surprised if the two stopped the game as soon as Leonardo found his lover.

The Brit halfheartedly looked behind a curtain in the living room, keeping a careful watch on the artist. In the kitchen, they found Malik sitting under the table, lodged between two chairs.

"You didn't try very hard, _amico_," Leonardo teased, though his face showed no amusement. Malik just rolled his eyes and skillfully rose without help; they exited the kitchen together to search the bedrooms.

"Where were you hiding then?" Malik sneered.

"In a closet," Shaun replied smoothly. Malik sharply turned, humor alighting his eyes.

"Were you in there together?"

"And if we were?"

There was a manly gasp from under Ezio's (and usually Leo's) bed. Leo, finally getting into the game, placed a finger over his lips and slid towards it, grinning. Both men couldn't ignore the fact that he moved with feline grace.

"Well we have two of them," Leonardo said, dragging Desmond from under the bed. "Let's look for the others so we can end this."

* * *

><p>"So how did you come up with this?" Ezio asked, lying beside Altair with his hands behind his head.<p>

"I was playing a video where you're a guy from Renaissance Italy, climbing buildings and killing people who killed your family and running away from guards."

"Only you would find death and running away fun, Altair," Ezio smirk.

"Shut it! You know you would too."

Ezio shrugged, uncommitted. He would, but he wouldn't say it aloud.

The brothers had spent the previous hour on the ground talking and bantering and playing twenty questions, waiting for someone to come and find them. It almost seemed like the others were avoiding them, but they supposed it was because no one had guessed to look outside.

"What is the weirdest thing you and Leonardo have ever done?" Altair asked after a yawn.

"Inside or outside the bedroom?" Ezio countered with a grin.

Altair covered his face with his palm.

* * *

><p>"We've searched the entire house! Where could they be?" Malik exclaimed, bored now by the "game."<p>

Desmond shrugged, leaning heavily on Shaun's shoulder, trying not to fall asleep. "Have we tried outside yet?" he yawned.

The foreigners shared a long look. Of course! They all rushed outside to check the grounds. Loud laughter could be heard behind a rather large hedge and then Ezio's voice rang out.

"No way! Malik begged?"

Desmond, Leonardo, and Shaun paused to look at Malik, shocked. The one-armed man was also shocked…and enraged.

"Yes," Altair replied. "'Please, Altair! Faster, Allah dammit!'" The imitation of Malik's voice was poor, but the intent was clear.

One look at his friend told Leonardo all he needed to know. "Ezio, _caro_, I forgive you….and move out of the way. I think Malik's going to kill your brother."


	3. After I Wake Up

**Sorry guys. No humor this time.**

**I wrote this chapter because I mainly felt the need to write something sad, and I had mentioned in the first chapter that Altair, Malik, and Kadar were involved in a wreck that took Kadar's life and Malik's arm so I figured "wouldn't Altair have nightmares from this?" and this is what came out. Yep. You must hate me.**

The_ glass was cracking more and more under the weight of the lake, tiny drops coming through like the tears rolling down his cheeks and the blood flowing from his lips. He looked at Malik__ who was struggling to undo his brother's seatbelt one-handed from the front seat. His left arm, bloodied, flopped uselessly about him as he moved. Kadar pushed Malik off, telling him to get away quickly that he would follow. Malik pulled on the driver's arm and kicked at the broken windshield. It shattered._

"_Hurry!" Kadar shouted, giving up on the restraint to wave them on. "I'll follow."_

_Water surged around his face, and yet still he called through the blackness of the lake "I'll follow." Both __men heard it echo through what they believed to be their grave._

"_I'll follow."_

Altair awoke gasping and sweating; a heavy weight rested on his chest, holding him down as he struggled to sit up. The weight shifted and disappeared, and a presence appeared before his clenched eyes.

"Altair?" a male voice asked. It was quiet as if the man speaking was unsure of the other's reaction. A gentle hand stroked the right side of his face, brushing away the tears that had streamed there. Altair opened his eyes and grasped the shoulders of the man above him.

Malik, who was accustomed to the aftereffects of the other's nightmares, did not blink, though he knew his shoulders would bruise before long. He called his lover's name again, this time not reaching to touch the pale face. Altair was wild-eyed, searching the room to hostiles and hiding places. Malik shushed him gently and encouraged him to lower his arms.

"Mal?" Altair finally whispered, letting the man go.

"I'm right here," Malik assured, sitting up to get a better look at his lover. The movement caught attention to his unclothed chest…and his missing arm. The sight of the stump shook Altair, and he began to cry harder. "No. Don't you dare," Malik hissed, gathering the man to his chest and rocking him while he sobbed.

-4 years before-

He had woken up surrounded by doctors and nurses, poking at him, talking to him, trying to get the story. Policemen too crowded the tiny recovery room. He was suffering from the migraines that accompanied his concussion as he tried to explain to the doctors and officers that he didn't remember the crash. He only remembered being surrounded by water.

They asked him if he was alone.

"I…I'm sure I was, but…" the words were slurred through the bandage covering his upper lip. The morphine was kicking in, and they were losing him again. "There was someone there…I'm sure of it now. Maybe even two."

And then the darkness took over again.

The next time he woke up his brothers, Ezio and Desmond, were by his side whispering in low tones. He attempted to speak to them, but all that came out was a low groan. He was surprised when his usually jocular younger brothers were suddenly jumping to their feet to see what was wrong. After a few tries he finally croaked out an inquiry of where he was.

"Altair, you're in the hospital. You were in a car accident," Desmond explained slowly as if speaking to a child.

"Accident?" Altair murmured. He hadn't been in an accident, had he? His head pounded as he tried to think.

_Altair swung into Malik's driveway, expertly stopping before he hit the two boys standing there. Kadar jumped up and down praising him, his wide grin spanning from ear to ear. Malik just shook his head and climbed in with a muttered "dumbass" as he shut the door._

"_Wow! I've never ridden in your car before, Altair! Are you a driving master?" Kadar __chattered as he got in the backseat._

_His brother mumbled a "something like that" as the driver looked in the rearview mirror._

"_Wait! Don't buckle that seatbelt!" he called out__ too late; the boy was strapped in tight._

"_Why?" Malik asked, genuinely__ curious._

"_It sticks," Altair explained. "It took Desmond a whole hour to get out of the car because of the thrice damned thing."_

"_Well at least he'll be safe," Malik thought out loud._

He woke up screaming; it was nothing unusual now. The doctors said it was a sign of trauma though, so they kept him in the hospital. He finally told them that Malik and his little brother were in his car. They stopped asking question after that.

Ezio stayed at the hospital with him until the nurses forcibly removed him from Altair's room. It was Desmond's senior year of high school so he wasn't able to visit often. After a week of tests, Altair was starting to believe they were just looking for excuses to keep him in the hospital.

The nurse who heard him scream rushed into his room with a sedative. In his mind he didn't need it, but he wasn't going to say that. After the second night of this vicious cycle of nightmares, he realized that assuring the nurses he was alright and wasn't going to attack just doubled the dosage of sedatives; sedatives that made him groggy and unable to speak for several hours afterwards.

Two days later, Ezio came in with trying news. "They located Malik," he said. "He's in the same hospital."

"Can…can I see him?" Altair asked his mouth dry and cottony; it had been a double dose night again.

"He's asking for you," Ezio sighed. "He won't talk to anyone except to ask for you or Kadar." The younger brother stopped and looked Altair in the eyes, long and hard.

"Altair," he said, leaning over his brother's bed, "where exactly is Kadar?"

-Present Day-

_Their first meeting after the incident didn't go as planned. Malik, still recovering from the amputation of his left arm, __had lain weak and helpless in his bed until they wheeled Altair in. The fury in the man's eyes had shocked Altair, and he struggled not to run. Venomous words had dripped from Malik's lips in both English and Arabic, a language the two learned together to feel closer to their ancestors._

_Finally Malik's rage had grown so violent that he leaned over the side of his bed to slap Altair across the cheek._

"_You killed my brother," he had __whispered, convinced his own words were truth. "You killed him."_

_There was no evidence to prove otherwise._

"Altair?" Malik's voice called out. "Snap out of it, dumbass." The man was used to the other's distance the day after a nightmare. He never asked Altair what caused him so much grief; he didn't feel like it was his duty, but he knew it had something to do with the wreck.

Malik stood shirtless in front of Altair. The scarred man always was comforted when he could see the crippled man's stump, like the past was simply that: the past.

"Why?" the man asked him suddenly. "Why did you forgive me?" Malik shrugged. There was no way to answer that.

-3 years before-

"Why are you here, Altair?" Malik ground out angrily while stirring the soup one-handedly. He had refused prosthetics, telling the doctors to fuck off. Let him figure it out on his own, he had told them.

"I'm…" Altair started, unsure. The one-armed man paused, but kept his back turned. Altair admired how he had kept the tightly wound muscles in his back in top shape despite his deformity, Malik's shirtless state aiding his assessment. "I'm not really sure," he whispered finally.

Uncomfortable silence settled in Malik's kitchen. The one-armed man refused to turn around just as the scarred face of the younger man refuse to lift from its view of the linoleum floor. It was a horrid color, Altair thought, mint green with flecks of yellow and brown, to similar to vomit. Unfortunately Malik had the same opinion of the soup, and finally, disgusted with it and himself, he dropped the spoon, leaning onto the counter with his good arm.

"Why are you here?" he asked again, not sure if would be answered this time.

"I don't know," Altair answered.

"If you don't have business here, I suggest that you leave," Malik said coldly, trying to ignore the lump of emotion that rested in his throat. To mask it fully, he shut off the stove with a harsh flick of his wrist and struggled to pick up the heavy pot to dump the contents in the trash. Suddenly Altair was beside him, grapping the handle from him and steadying it.

"I…" Altair started again. Malik looked at him sharply. "I don't want to leave."

Angry tears ran down Malik's face, "And why not?" His face twisted into a fierce scowl. "I don't want you here! You killed my brother!" His fist suddenly contacted with Altair's chin, the force of the blow sending both of them to the ground. With a half-sobbing cry, he yelled, "_Elif air ab tizak!_"

They ignored the hot soup that spatter all over their torsos; they ignored the fact that Altair burned his hand as the pot was knocked out of it. All there was to acknowledge was their faces near each other and the tears that the two of them cried but also tried to ignore.

-Present day-

"I love you," Malik said firmly as Altair stared at the blank television screen.

"What?" the other man asked, confused.

"I already said it once today. Don't make me say it again," Malik huffed as he settled next to Altair on the brothers' couch. The other two inhabitants of the apartment were out with their respective boyfriends for most of the remaining day. "I love you, Altair. Now turn on the TV before I get pissed."

Altair tried not to smile as he reached for the remote. Malik's stump of an arm was brushing his right, whole, one. He cupped the sensitive end with his own left hand. Malik shivered and gazed at him for a moment before shrugging and turning away again.

They were rarely affectionate. Some days they committed the fact to their odd history, others they explained it was because they were private people naturally, but truth be told they didn't need to.

**Reviews mean funny stuff next time!**


	4. Author's Note: I'm so sorry

**All of you are going to kill me, but I have to do this...**

Okay I promise to take this author's note down as soon as I post the new chapter, but I felt that it was unfair that the people on deviantart know the reason behind the wait for chapters when all of you don't. ((on a side note: it's really difficult to avoid using "y'all". I'm from the South so that's my usual pronoun.)) First off, I'm a senior in high school and this semester I have 3 AP classes, senior project, and state competition for my speech and debate team. On top of that, most of this story is about stupid things that have happened to me so I only write chapters as stupid events happen.

To minimize the wait time, besides the school stuff that is out of my control, I am asking for reviews or PMs with suggestions. The next chapter is halfway written, and I won't reveal it, but it does involve Cesare chasing everyone while riding a red motorcycle. So if anything stupid has occurred in your lives, please drop me a line, and I'll try my best to include it.

**Thanks guys!**


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